Can this be happening?
by floatingpianos
Summary: Moritz's desires seem to be taking over his life. Between school and his complicated relationship with Melchior, the line between fantasy and reality is becoming skewed. Can Moritz pull himself together?
1. I

I

Everything is so peaceful here in this field. My thoughts are quiet and simple—no worries, no problems—just tranquil examination of the beauty around me. The grass is soft beneath me, and the breeze is so gentle. It quietly moves through the grain making the valley below me ebb and flow like a river of gold. The sun, just starting to set, casts a pinkish-orange haze over the blue sky, the colors blending together forming shades of violet and magenta. It's warm, and I feel safe. Could it be better? I hear quiet foot steps behind me and feel foolish even thinking such a ridiculous question. Of course it could be better…with him.

I need not turn around to know who is making those quiet footsteps. I hear him tread towards me ever so lightly as if walking on pillows of air. My hearts starts racing as I feel him approaching in some deep mysterious depth of my soul. The wind blows sending ripples through the grass and through my hair. I shiver a little, both from the cool breeze and from my excitement. He seems to be walking so slowly, so leisurely. I decide to meet him half way.

In an instant I am off the ground and turned to face him. I was correct of course. It's him, Melchior Gabor, the boy who has held my affections since before I knew what that meant. In this field my love isn't unrequited. He is in love with me! I can see it in his beautiful eyes as he looks at me longingly.

I start walking towards him. The wind gently lifts his curls from his angelic face and blows open the collar of his shirt revealing a marble smooth chest. He grins seductively at me, noticing the stare I am giving him. I'm lusting to touch him, to feel him pressed against me. I try to walk faster, but he seems too far away. Yet, I still hear his footsteps wrinkling the blades of grass. My heart keeps beating faster and faster, pounding in my ears. Melchior is still walking slowly, steadily. He is so calm whereas I am so anxious to hold him. I'm practically running now. This seems to work because I see him growing closer to me. I run even faster. I'm practically flying with my feet grazing the grass beneath me. I hold out my arms to receive him and he does the same. Closer, closer, closer. I can almost feel him—"HEIR STIEFEL!"

My head flies up from the desk. My body turns stiff. I'm nervous in my seat. I must have been dreaming. The cold reality of the classroom sinks into me, pushing away the warm feelings that had comforted me in my dream. My eyes creep towards Herr Sonnenstich. He is looking angrily at me. "Repeat the last few lines of Virgil Herr Stiefel," he says with malice. My mouth grows dry, and I can barely remember any of the lines. It's so difficult to focus. I mutter something quickly, hoping it will make sense.

"NO!" Sonnenstich yells. This is horrible. I wish I were back in the dream, safe with Melchior. Suddenly I hear him, Melchior, speaking behind me. I almost can't believe it, but I'm too afraid to turn around to confirm my suspicions. He's defending me. The warm feeling that I had in the dream starts to creep back into my body. Melchior is such a good friend. I don't know how I could possibly still be in school without him always helping me study. We're so close. I almost didn't realize I had fallen in love with him until I started dreaming about hi—*SNAP*

The sound makes me tense up again. My body goes cold. Melchior has been hit with the switch. I immediately feel guilty. Melchior didn't have to help me. God knows I deserved it after falling asleep in class. Melchior isn't a screw-up. He never gets the switch. I hate Sonnenstich for this! And I hate myself for it too. The terrible feeling of guilt leaves me petrified.

I try to leave quickly as soon as class is over. Sonnenstich mutters something cruel and sarcastic at me as I leave, but I ignore it. I grab my tablet and walk quickly out of the room. I'm too scared to face Melchior. I'm almost out of the school when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face Melchior; he's out of breath.

"Hey, what's with the rush?" he says jokingly. He's smiling between his gasps for air. I avert my eyes to the ground. The guilt is too much.

"I-I'm sorry about what happened—in class," I mumble, afraid to look Melchior in the face. How could he ever love me after I made him get beaten in class? After all, he has never done anything to hurt me.

"Moritz," he says sweetly. His hand lifts my chin, and I look into his merciful eyes. It's like staring into the face of Christ. Melchior truly is my innocent savior. "Don't worry about that. It wasn't your fault. I chose to speak up; you didn't make me. It's _his_ fault. He had no justification in hitting me. Honestly, I think he was embarrassed when I stood up to him."

I'm quickly relieved by Melchior's words. He's so understanding. I smile at my hero. He smiles back. And then I feel the warm rush flow through me again. It's like I'm back in the dream. We just look at each other for a moment. I feel so happy in his presence. He looks away, which makes me realize that the eye contact was probably awkward for him. A wave of embarrassment passes over me, and I can feel blushing in my cheeks. "We should study for tomorrow's exam Moritz," he blurts. I start nodding.

"Y-yes we should," I say.

"At my house?" he asks.

"Sure."

* * *

We spend almost 3 hours studying various equations and lines of Virgil. It all seemed so confusing at first, but now I understand it fairly well. Melchior is so intelligent. He understands all of this so well. This fact further adds to my confusion as to why Herr Sonnenstich would strike Melchior. He's the best student in class. Melchior's probably right though—Sonnenstich must feel threatened by his intellect.

"I knew you could do it Moritz," he congratulates me. I try to hide my chagrin at the compliment. He's always so kind to me.

"Th-thank you Melchior. You're a really good teacher—much better than Sonnenstich," I tell him. He grins at my comment.

"I'm not that good," he says. "_You_ had a lot to do with learning it you know. It wasn't _all_ me," he jokes. "Now you just have to stay awake."

I don't want to take his joke too seriously, but it reminds me of the guilt I feel over Melchior being whipped. I must look uncomfortable because he quietly says, "I was kidding Moritz. I _really_ didn't mean anything by it."

I look up him and he looks sincer. He's always looking out for me—so considerate. "No, no, it's ok. It's just that I have trouble sleeping lately," I tell him.

"Bad dreams?" he asks.

"No, no—well not exactly. They're g-good dreams actually," I respond.

"Then what's the problem then?"

"The dreams—well—they really keep me thinking at night—about well…"

"What kind of dreams?" he asks with genuine intrigue.

"They're sort of—s-sexy d-dreams—,"

"Really?" he says. He's looks like he's getting really interested now…excited maybe. "Tell me about them."

"I don't want to say."

"C'mon," he presses further.

"I—can trust you—r-right?"

"Yeah. Of course. Moritz, you can trust me with anything."

I really believe him. He's my best friend. If I can trust anyone, it's him.

"Well—there are boys in them…,"

He looks a little caught off guard but doesn't look away. He keeps looking into my eyes. "Really?" he says quietly, practically whispering.

"Yes," I mutter. This is the longest we've ever looked into each other's eyes. I feel such a deep attachment to him now, like I can tell him everything, anything.  
"Who? Hanschen? Georg?"

"No."

"Ernst then?"

"No."

"Not Otto"

"No," I say with a chuckle. He chuckles too. I feel a little more comfortable.

"Who is it?" he says moving closer to me.

There's a silence then and my heart starts racing, like in the dream. I feel so nervous. I can't believe this is happening. He suddenly gets this expression on his face, like he knows what I'm about to say.

"—You."


	2. II

II

He keeps looking at me. I still can't believe its happening. Maybe he didn't hear me; his face hasn't changed. I decide to repeat myself. "Y—,"

He cuts me off, lunging towards me and pressing his lips into mine. It's too surreal to be true. Maybe I'm dreaming again. I feel warm and fuzzy; this could be a dream. It can't be though. I feel his lip, moving against mine. I'm not even thinking at this point. I decide to be risky and place my hand on his chest. I feel one of his hands cupping my face and the other on my back pulling me closer to him. The warm feeling is stronger than ever. Daringly, I thrust out my other hand towards his crotch like in my dreams. I can barely feel the warmth of his hardness on my hand before he swiftly moves away. Jerkily he removes his hands from my body and shoves them defensively between his legs.

The warmth flees from my body as cold darkness floods into my veins. I knew he couldn't like me. It was too good to be true. This was a terrible idea. I can't stay. I have to get out of here.

"I'm—sorry," I blurt out awkwardly as I dart towards his bedroom door.

"Moritz—," he says as I fidget with the doorknob. I look over my shoulder at his distressed face before dashing off.

* * *

I'm running. I'm running away from him. The pain I feel inside from being—rejected—is tearing me apart. I don't even feel my legs now as they carry me into the cold night. My cheeks are wet with tears, the wind wiping them across my face. My chest is tight and aching. My heart is pounding into my lungs trying to escape. I wish I could just rip it out and stop these feelings that I have for Melchi. How can I carry on? It's getting hard to breathe. It's so dark, so cold. I see my home coming up, but all that means is shelter from the cold. I'm no less devastated in my lonely bedroom than I am anywhere else. I bust through the front door, but Mama and Papa don't awaken to my raucous entry. They sleep so deeply; the house feels like a mausoleum. The cornfields have the company of the moon and the stars, but in here, I am alone in total darkness.

I feel as dead as my surroundings. I may feel a heart beating inside my chest, but I know it is not mine, not anymore. It's trying to return to Melchior, but he doesn't want it. Now I'm just a ghost with a stranger's heart holding it down like a rabid animal. I've been living so long off of a dream that Melchior might love me. Now that that dream is over, I feel life slipping away like pearls through my fingertips. It was such a beautiful dream too, a fantasy. It was paradise. If I could just get back to the dream, nothing would matter. I would be okay. I would be happy. I would be with him…

"Moritz!" I hear in the distance. He's calling me. The dream survived! I hear him somewhere, shouting, ever so loudly. Mama and Papa must not here him from their dormancy, but I do. I run into my room. It's dark, but I can feel him in here. I dive towards the bed and look under the covers. It's so dark. Where is he?

"Moritz, moritz!" he shouts again. He's here somewhere. I close my eyes and try to think where he could be hiding. I wrap myself tightly with sheets and curl up into a ball trying to hear exactly where he is. I concentrate so hard, so hard. I'm trying to hear his voice. It's there, but I where? Where is he? I'm so alone in my cocoon of sheets; all is silent except for Melchior's voice. It's non-stop. If I could just find him, it would be fine. He wants me now; he does! I just need to find him. Find him, find him, find him…

I've been encased for too long. I need to get out and find Melchior. I open my eyes and start tearing through the sheets. It's so dark in here. How did I get so many sheets around myself? Peeling them off isn't working. I feel myself suffocating in this entanglement. I begin to claw at my cell, trying to break free. As I tear away the layers I see light. It grows with each layer I remove. I hear something now, not Melchior though. It's like…waves. Why did Melchior stop calling? I finally tear through and see the light. It's sunny and beautiful—a paradise. I look around. There is sand beneath me and water in front of me and…Melchior.

Standing in the water is Melchior. I've found him! He is smiling at me, his beautiful face shining in the sun. His cream-white body is set against the deep blue of the ocean and the gentle blue of the sky. I can see his chest and his strong toned arms. He's shirtless—actually, no he's completely naked. I can see the rest of him. He's young but so muscular. This is the first time I've seen him nude, and I'm becoming so aroused at the sight. When I peek at his penis my already beating heart starts racing. It's so beautiful—and big! Oh my God. I look up at him to see if he notices me staring at him like that, but he's looking at me too. What's he looking at? I look down and see that I'm also naked. I immediately cover myself. I've always been self-conscious of my body. I'm too skinny and weak. I look down again though; something is different. I remove my hands and see that my puny body has been transformed into a god-like physique. My pecs are firm—I have pecs now—and my abs are rock hard. My arms are so muscular and my penis—is it longer? I stand up straight and feel taller. I think I am taller.

I look over at Melchior, still standing in the water admiring me. I wink at him and laugh. He does the same. He gestures me to come over with his hand. I walk instantly toward him like I'm being pulled by a rope. The sand is soft and warm. I step into the water and notice that it is also warm. It's clear; I can see right to the bottom. It's shaky with waves, but they are gentle. The water is moving gently over me. I walk a little further, the water moving up to my knee, and join Melchior. He pulls me into a hug, a warm hug. He's holding me so tightly and saying, "I love you Moritz."

"I love you Melchior," I say, meaning every word. The sun is shining on us as if it recognizes the love we share. I bury my face into his chest. It's firm but so soft. I notice that I'm growing hard. It's understandable given that I'm holding a naked Melchior. I look down and see that he is also hard. I look into his eyes and we both grin with delight and desire. He kisses me. His lips feel—fantastic! They're so soft and luscious. I feel his tongue trying to press into my mouth. I gladly let it in. His tongue massages my tongue in a sort of dance, slowly at first like a waltz. It speeds up though into a passionate tango. I keep forgetting to breath; I'm so distracted by the intensity of our kissing. His hands are mirroring the dance steps of his tongue. They dance over my body, massaging every part—so quickly as if he were touching every part at once. It's almost overwhelming, but I love it. I feel like we've been doing this for hours but I don't want to stop—I could go on forever.


	3. III

III

Time seems so still with Melchior in my arms. We're standing in the water; the waves are crashing harder and harder every minute but they don't shake us. We're one solid unit, bound by our passionate kisses. I want to touch him, but I'm scared. The last time I tried this Melchior rejected me and—I can't take that again. Suddenly his lips break from mine.

"Go ahead Moritz," he says, smiling. I feel like he must have heard my thoughts. There's a strange connection between our minds, like one continuous circuit of thoughts and emotions. I feel as if he knows, truly knows what I need from him. "Please," he begs. The begging is unnecessary though. I want this as much as him. I start to move my hand from his back, running it over his smooth buttocks, squeezing them a little and relishing the intimacy. He groans a little, a sort of savage groan of delight. I want to hear it again. I use both hands this time and squeeze both buttocks. And there's the groan again, feeding my lust. I remove one hand and slide it over to his chest. My heart's beating so quickly; Melchior is panting. This is too much—but I keep going. I grasp his cock at last causing Melchior to groan again, louder this time. God it feels good! It's so soft and smooth in my hand. I begin stroking it, like I've done to myself before. This is so different though—with him. I look down at his huge hard-on which just makes me hornier. He must love this because he's whimpering now. Innately I kiss his shuddering lips. Oh this is fantastic! If only—and then my heart drops. He's touching me now. I think he knew what I wanted before I did. It's pure ecstasy. I begin whimpering little whimpers like Melchior. Our hands speed up, and the waves around us are crashing like crazy. The water seems to be building into a raging tide, the ferocity growing with the speed of our hands and our hearts.

It's like we're racing but we're both winning. "Moritz," he whispers. He keeps repeating my name. I reply with his.

"Melchi," I breathe. Our calls grow louder with the passing seconds. We're both sort of screaming now overt the loudness of the waves. It's passionate and intense. I feel the climax approaching, but I look up and see the sky darkening. I don't think our hands could be pumping our cocks any faster. I don't want this to end, but I feel like some cosmic force is tearing me away. The scene is turning into storm. The water is forming tidal waves far at sea and the wind is blowing furiously on us. "NO!" I scream. We have to finish the race together. No damn storm is going to stop us. I grab onto Melchior's back with my free hand; the waves are becoming difficult to withstand. The cold water is crashing onto our bare bodies and soaking us.

"Moritz—Moritz—Mortiz!" he yells louder and louder. We're so close now, just a few more moments. I see a wave approaching us though, a big wave a few feet away. I feel our orgasms approaching. Almost, almost, there and—just as we climax the wave crashes into us. I feel all the energy in my body pour out and into Melchior. I feel weak but ecstatic. We're sinking deeper and deeper into the water, but it's fine. We hold each other tightly even though something seems to be pulling us apart. We're trying so hard to hold on to each other, but it's becoming too difficult. I see Melchior's body float quickly up to the surface. I'm still sinking though fast into the darkness. "Mortiz," he yells again and again. Everything is crashing down and going dark. I feel my body being pulled apart and—

Suddenly my eyes open. Everything is still dark but quieter. I seem to be stuck in some sort of wrapping. I still hear Melchior calling me though. I pull apart at the covering and realize I'm in my room. Fuck! It was a dream—again. Dread sets in with the realization that nothing really happened. I'm angry and feel tears forming in my eyes. I notice something sticky in my lap. Of course, just a wet dream. Damn't.

None of it was real—but I still hear him. I really hear him though, close by. This can't be like before; I really hear him. This can't be my imagination again. I turn my head and see a figure at the window. It's him, it's really him. I know this is real. What is he doing here though?

I jump from bed and approach the window. Melchior's innocent beauty shines in the moonlight. He looks distraught, but then again, he has reason to. Shakily I open the window, not sure of what will happen. "Thanks," he says shaking. I already feel the night wind blowing into my room and chilling me through my sweat drenched pajamas. As he climbs in I grab my blanket from the bed. He closes the window, still shivering. "Here," I say wrapping the blanket around him.

"Thanks," he says through trembling blue lips. I wonder how long he's been out there. "Moritz…I'm sorry…about before," he says, turning his head from me. "It's not that—,"

"Melchi—I know," I say, "I-I shouldn't have touched you. _I'm sorry_ Melchior, t-truly. I shouldn't have brought it up. I don't know why I thought you might f-feel the same way-."

"Moritz," he says moving closer. "You weren't wrong." He grabs my hand and all the warmth flows into my body.

"Melchi?" I say on the verge of tears. "Can this be happening?"

He pulls me closer and kisses me with his blue shaking lips. I feel myself shaking. I grab his body and lay my head on his shoulder. I feel the tears soaking his shirt.

"Shhh," he coos. "Moritz, I was just nervous. I—I—this is new for me too. I didn't—I didn't know what to do. But I do know that I love you Moritz. I do."

His words are wooing me into dizziness. This seems so unreal, but I can feel his warm body and his strong hands wrapped around my fragile body. No…this _is_ real. I feel myself collapsing into his embrace, my legs giving out.

"Moritz!" he gasps still holding me in his arms. I feel him pull me somewhere. "Here, lay down," he says. He gently releases my body into the bed. I feel like I'm about to faint. This is too beautiful—too perfect. He really does love me. I'm crying still, but they are tears of joy. I feel him lie down next to me. He scoots toward me, wrapping his arms around my chest and lies with me. I feel his nose burrowing into my hair.

"Moritz, this is so unreal," he says.

"You're telling me," I say. Me sobs are drying up from the heat of his embrace.

"I love you," he says. I turn my body to face him. In the dim light he looks stunning, like the statues of angels at Church. I never paid much attention to the priest's words; I was too distracted by the beautiful paintings and sculptures. I feel as if an angel is with me right now.

He smiles and kisses me. So beautiful. So perfect. I close my eyes and he pulls me in closer. As I drift into sleep, I inhale his scent. He smells like home.


	4. IV

IV

I awake slowly from my deep slumber. Can it be? A dreamless night? No intense fantasies or torturous nightmares? No, I don't believe I even remember any dreams. This has to be the first night I've actually slept soundly—and with another person. Reality seems to have become the dream. The sun is shining on my face, the only cause for me to awaken. Melchior is still holding me, tightly but gentle. It's truly perfect. I want this to never end.

I look up at his face. He's so quiet and untroubled. His beautiful face is all the more beautiful when he's sleeping. He's so vulnerable and exposed. I don't believe I've seen him before like this—with his totally guard down. I feel like he's always trying to hide himself away. But being in his arms, I feel like he's let me in, like I'm the only one who can see to his soul.

He's so handsome—especially seeingevery inch of his face. The contours of his cheek bones—the gentle curls of brown hair in his face—and luscious lips. They're a sort of deep red. I move my head up and kiss him. His lips are so soft. They're like rose petals—and they smell intoxicating. My dreams suddenly seem so vague and superficial. They don't even compare to the real thing.

I close my eyes and kiss him slowly—gently massaging his lips with mine. Suddenly I feel his lips start moving on their own. I go along with it, allowing his lips to flutter over my mouth, my cheek, my collar bone, up my neck, and—oooh, over my ear lobe. He rests there a while, kissing my ear and then, mmmmmm, nibbling a little on the ear lobe. I whimper a little uncontrollably. "Melchi," I whisper softly. I never imagined such delights.

His hands start sliding gracefully over my back and he pulls me deeper into his body. I feel him growing hard already and he must feel my hardness as well. His mouth moves from my ear to my neck, and his tongue starts dancing on my skin and over my collar bone. Every movement is like a little spark driving my nerves crazy. He moves his lips up my chin and up to my lips before plating a firm kiss on them. I open my eyes and see him smiling at me. His beautiful blue eyes sparkle like gems. I smile immediately. "Good morning," he says.

"Good morning," I reply.

"I'd still be kissing you," he says, "if I could stop staring at your beautiful face." His words seem genuine and truthful even though I find it hard to believe that my face could be considered beautiful. I blush a little at the compliment nonetheless. He's looking into my eyes, like he's looking into me, like he can hear every thought going through my mind.

I bury my head in his chest and smell his scent, something I'll never get tired of doing. He smells musky but clean, manly but young. He smells familiar, probably because I've smelled him all night. His scent still clouds my thoughts and my vision though like a heavenly fog passing over my mind. I feel like I'm falling back asleep, losing myself in his warmth.

However, my dozing is interrupted: Melchior quickly shifts away from me and turns around. I assume he's examining the clock—something I've been putting out of my mind all morning. "Moritz," he whispers quickly, "it's nearing 7." I sit up and watch him as he finds his shoes and puts on his coat over his pajamas. "Mama and Papa will be up soon. They can't know I snuck out." I don't want this to end. I just want to lie with Melchior all day and night. "Moritz, I'll see you at school. I just know you'll do great on the exams." He kisses me briefly before quietly crawling out my window. I gaze at his slender body gracefully running through dew-wet grass and into the rising sunset.

I suppose it's for the best that he's gone. It would be awful if Mama and Papa caught me in bed with Melchior. I can't even fathom what Papa would do if—I mean—for bad marks I get the switch—I don't even want to think about the consequences for being caught with Melchior—a boy. I don't know when I became like this. My parents can never know that I have these feelings for another boy. Papa often scorns that Robel boy for his "peculiarities". He chides his high voice and his femininity. He says he could turn out to be one of those "homosexuals". He says the word with such disdain that it gives me shivers. I think Ernst really is a homosexual, though.

I once saw him kissing Hanschen Rilow. They had snuck into the forest after school. Ernst had taken my copy of the _Aeneid_ on accident, and I was following him. When I caught up to him, Ernst was pushed up against a tree and Hanschen was kissing him. I stayed for too long though; after a few seconds, Ernst noticed me. His eyes grew wide and scared, but he didn't say anything. I ran away quickly. The next day, before school, Ernst and I exchanged books without speaking. I looked inside and found a note that read, "Please don't say anything, Moritz". I never did. If Ernst's Papa found out, I think he would do what my Papa would do. I don't even want to think about it.

I feel a draft coming into the room and notice that Melchior has left the window open. I slowly stumble out of bed to close it when I hear steps by the door. Just as I close the window, the door opens.

"Moritz?" Mama says. I turn to face her.

"Yes, Mama."

"Well, you're up awfully early."

"I-I guess I'm j-just nervous for the exams today."

"Well, yes, yes that's understandable…I thought I heard noises in hear."

"That w-was me Mama. I fell out of bed—it's n-nothing."

"Alright dear. I'll start breakfast then."

"Yes Mama."

"Moritz—please do well today." She walks toward me, a little fidgety.

"Mama—I will—I-I studied—with Melchior last night…he thinks I'll do well—"

"—because Moritz, you know what happens if you—if you don't." Suddenly she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

"I know Mama."

"Moritz—I-I can't stop him." She releases me quickly, kisses my forehead, and walks out of the room. I think she might have been crying a little. It's strange—she never reacted quite like that before. She always seemed disappointed but—she never…cried before. I'm having trouble thinking about Mama or the switch or my marks for that matter. I can't get Melchior out of my head. It's just too unreal all this. I'm trying just to convince myself that this is really happening. It's really, really happening.

* * *

I arrived to school early today. I'm anxious to take the exams, to see Melchior. My heart's racing in anticipation. I see Melchior approaching and smile uncontrollably at seeing him. He smiles too. I step towards him, ready to hug him—kiss him maybe—but I'm stopped in my tracks when my eyes dart towards Otto and Georg who are a few yards behind Melchior. The smile flees my lips. Melchior notices and turns to see the pair. "Good Morning Moritz," he says realizing the unwanted company approaching.

"Good morning Melchior," I respond. Georg and Otto walk past as do more students. Most of our class seems to be arriving now. I wait with Melchior for everyone to enter—standing outside the building. When Hanschen, the last of the group, enters, Melchior grabs my hand and swiftly leads me to a dark corner. He firmly kisses my lips, backing my body into the stone wall of the school. He lays one hand on my head holding it close to his and wraps the other around my back. The kisses become quick and intense as he tries to mumble a few words. "It's—been—so long," he gasps between kisses.

I feel the same way. It's only been around 2 hours, but even in such a short time, I've been craving to hold him—kiss him. We're interrupted by the bell, and he stops instantly. He presses his forehead into mine as we both try to catch our breaths. He moves his hands quickly straightening his tie. I do the same. We both dart quickly inside and into our classroom.

"Herr Stiefel. Herr Gabor," Sonnenstich says menacingly. "How nice of you to join us…SIT DOWN."

We sit immediately. Quickly Sonnenstich hands out thick packets of paper. They're so intimidating. Melchior leans toward me and whispers, "You'll be fine…don't worry," before Sonnenstich can notice. His words are comforting, but my anxieties are still in the back of my head. What did Mama mean this morning? I'm trying not to think about it, but something was off this morning with her. "START!" screams Sonnenstich and I begin promptly.

The test goes by so quickly. I know all of the questions though. Melchior prepared me so well for this. I just race through it, hoping I don't run out of time. Just as Sonnenstich screams, "STOP!" I finish the last equation. I look over at Melchior who looks like he's been done for a while. He grins at my apparent fretfulness and follows me as I walk out of the room.

On the way home, Melchior keeps assuring me that I did fine. I think I did too. I knew all of the questions, but it was just nerve-wracking trying to get through everything. At last we reach my house.

"Moritz," he begins, "see me tonight." He looks at me with pleading eyes and holds my hand. The idea is so alluring. I start nodding involuntarily. He smiles at me. "Just sneak out after dark. Meet me in that field that we used to play in when we were little—,"

"—where we played pirates?" I interrupt, fondly remembering the simplicity of our childhood. I wish things were still that easy.

"Yes," he says giggling a little. "Well…I'll see you then. I'd—kiss you but I think you're Mama might be watching."

I blush a little in embarrassment as Melchior walks off towards his home. Already the butterflies are beating wildly in my stomach. I think that they must suspect what's going to happen tonight.


	5. V

V

I can't seem to settle myself down. I'm so anxious to meet Melchior tonight. At dinner my body was shaking as if I were in Sonnenstich's classroom. Mama and Papa didn't seem to notice though—as if they'd notice me at all. Papa always eats dinner quickly while firing mean words at Mama and I like we're targets. Cognac and bourbon are the gunpowder and his mouth is the barrel. He's so disappointed in us. Mama can never have the house clean enough or dinner prepared quickly enough. And I "will never be a man" if I can't do well in school. We've learned to absorb the blows and not protest, but Mama's acting so unstable today. I wonder where her subdued demeanor has gone. She's almost as nervous a wreck as I am. It's almost as if—wait—no—did Mama?—no she couldn't have—walked in—on me—and—Melchi—no—I—she couldn't have. That's crazy. Yes, that's crazy. She couldn't have. Moritz, just—no—stop thinking about it. Everything will be fine. It'll be just like in my dreams—but better. Oh—yes—it will be okay.

Lying in my bed, my mind is racing with thoughts of tonight. Every fantasy I've dreamt is flooding back into my memory. The tongues—the hands roaming—his eyes staring into mine hypnotically. My body shivers with goosebumps at the thought of tonight's pleasures. I can see Melchior now, ripping my clothes off, holding me in his arms, touching me where no one has touched me before. I feel his tongue on my skin and his lips on my mouth—like this morning.

I can't wait much longer. I peer out the window and into the slowly darkening sky. Papa must surely be up. I hear scratchy brass music still playing in his office. He's still listening to his recordings. Oh Papa! —Why can't you just go to sleep! I pull a pillow off the ground and bury my head in it, trying to drown out Papa's music. I'm trying to think about Melchior: my only source of relief; I can smell his sweet scent still on the pillow. I push my face in deeper and inhale the heavenly aroma. My mind flashes back to the morning—a sort of fantasized version though. My hand slips down my pants as I indulge in the fabricated memory.

I look up into his beautiful eyes and can see my reflection in them as if I were inside Melchior. Ray's of golden sunlight shine onto Melchior's face and his sculpted torso. His shirt is unbuttoned revealing porcelain-like skin smooth over his firm muscles. I reach my hand over and feel his stomach moving with every breath he takes. His skin is warm and radiates a sort of divine energy. He gently pushes me down onto the bed so that I'm lying on my back. Quickly he slips off his shirt and mine before climbing on top of me. He grinds himself into me—his bare chest heats up my entire body when it touches my skin. He moves his head so that it's inches away from mine. He stares straight into my eyes with an intoxicating gaze. He pulls of my pants and then his. Sparks seem to fly when his erect penis touches mine.

He lowers his hand down to reach our cocks. He strokes them slowly and gently, but then he speeds up. His hand is moving so quickly; I feel like a fire, a heavenly fire is about to erupt. I feel myself about to—make a mess—I don't want to do that now. I want to wait for Melchior. I don't need to do that to myself anymore with fantasies or dreams—I have him now.

I notice that the music has finally turned off. I hear footsteps creep and a door close. They must be asleep or close to it. I quietly roll out of bed and slip on my coat. I gently open the window, hoping Mama and Papa don't hear the squeaks. I climb out and start walking toward the field. I'm shaking even though tonight is surprisingly warm. It must be the nerves. Eventually I reach the field. This really is a great place to meet. The grass is fairly tall and the field is filled with trees. No wonder we liked playing here as kids. Suddenly I hear a whistling sound. I look around to see where it's coming from, but all I see is grass. Out of nowhere a head pops out of the see of grass. I recognize Melchior's big smile immediately. I rush through the field and stumble into a quaint area of matted down grass. He grabs my hand and leads me down onto the ground. I sit next to him overjoyed to be with him again. I hold his hand tightly. I look into his face and see that behind the smile is a look of grief.

"Melchi?" I say. He looks down at the ground for a second and rubs my hand.

"Moritz—I wanted to apologize for what happened the other night—at my house," he starts. As he's speaking, I see that something is changed. Whatever facade he keeps to hide his emotions from the world seems to be lifted. Without it, a look of concern is visible in his face. His eyes are pleading. "I really do love you Moritz." He moves his hand to my thigh and rests it there. "…like that," he says. "I was nervous Moritz. Surely you can understand that. This is new to me. I didn't know I was—like this—until I felt these feelings for you. But I want to be with you Moritz, however I can. I think I'm ready now."

It pains me to see him so troubled like this. "Melchi—I've—been waiting a long time—to hear that," I respond with a warm smile. He looks up at me with cheerful eyes. "I love you Melchi."

"Oh—Moritz-," he mutters before lunging on top of me and covering my mouth with kisses. His hands begin groping my body. I feel them slide over my back and chest and then my bottom. He arrives at my thigh and pulls it up. I wrap my leg around his waist and allow his whole body to totally cover mine. "Moritz," he moans, grasping the hair on my head and stroking my thigh. He shoves his tongue into my mouth and wildly wrestles with mine. I feel slightly claustrophobic underneath his domineering body. I squirm around trying to remove my jacket. The heat between our bodies is making it hard to breath. He picks himself off of me and removes his own jacket allowing me to take off mine. I see sweat beading on his head and feel moistness on my own forehead—I'm still too hot.

"Melchior," I gasp, "This is so—intense—I can barely breathe—we should-," and before I even finish my sentence, he's ripping off his shirt and flinging it to the ground. Sitting up on my elbows I look into his eyes and see a lustful animal. He's knelt down before me, panting like a beast, but it's obvious that he isn't finished. It turns me on and accentuates my own lust. I quickly sit up to kiss his bare chest. The movement must be too forceful because I knock him over. Now I'm on top looking down at his beautiful torso. It isn't as sculpted as in my dreams, but it's better in person; he's more human and more manly—right down to the short hairs on his stomach leading down to his crotch, which I notice has become stiff and bulging.

I pull off my shirt and press my body into his. I grind my hips into his, feeling the friction of our erections pushed together. I do this repeatedly causing us both to whimper and whine as we continue the intense kissing that is making us so breathless. With one hand I run my hand through his hair, gripping the sexy curls, and, with the other, I try desperately to remove his pants. He notices and tries to stop my hand with his own. "Melchior—it's ok—please—," I force out between kisses. He gives in and retracts his hand—slowly moving it to my waistband. Fortunately, we're both in pajama pants, so after a few tugs I'm able to pull his pants off of his body. Without breaking the passion of our kisses, he does the same to me. Now that the amount of fabric between our pressing erections has decreased, I can vaguely feel the contours of his penis on my own through the underwear. I feel my already stiff cock growing harder and harder such that it hurts a little. My underwear feels so tight on me.  
Melchior moves his mouth to my neck rapidly kissing and nibbling at every inch of skin his mouth finds. With the other hand he rubs my bulge through my underwear. I whimper his name, "Melchi—oh, oh, oh, Melchi," and then suddenly I blurt, "Take them off—my underwear—j-just take them off—please Melchior." He reciprocates hastily tugging at the fabric with one hand. After a few moments, he uses the other hand, still trying to multitask by both disrobing me and kissing me senselessly. This is going too slow, so he quickly lifts himself off me and pulls down my underwear forcefully and then stands up to pull of his. I stare entranced at his engorged prick. It's so big. I want to touch it, but before I can move my hand to stroke it, he dives back on top of me.

He kisses me briefly on my lips, but then he starts moving down my body. His lips graze my chest and stomach and then stop. I look down at him. He stares up at me innocently, before planting his lips on my erection. It's like a jolt of electricity striking my body. I cry out in shock and joy. I watch my cock move in and out of his mouth. My head jars back as I feel his tongue on the tip, flicking back and forth quickly. I feel his hand rubbing my chest. I can't stop myself from whimpering at his touch. It feels amazing. I notice that I've been involuntarily bucking my hips into his face, shoving my cock deeper into his mouth. I look down at him. He's stroking himself while sucking on my prick. Even while multitasking, he hasn't neglected me at all. In fact, his mouth is moving faster and faster. A breeze passes over my body, gently cooling it from the intense heat. My bare chest tingles at the chilling relief.  
Melchior starts moaning, pushing me closer to my climax. I start crying his name. "Melchi, Melchi, Melchi." He starts moaning louder. My body starts shaking as I feel my orgasm approaching. "Melchior—I'm gonna—Melchi—wait," I try warning him. His mouth doesn't stop though. He's intent on finishing me off…and he does just that. I release myself into his mouth. He swallows all of it though. He keeps sucking until my penis it's completely drained. I feel my whole body drained though. I'm exhausted. Everything was moving so fast, and now it's slowed down so much that I'm a little disoriented. I feel incredible though. He pulls his mouth off of my cock. I look down and watch him as he finishes himself off, shooting white liquid into the grass. He pulls himself on top of me and rests his cheek on my chest. The cold air feels great on our hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"That was amazing Moritz," he says. He looks up at me with his beautiful smile gleaming. I kiss him instantly, unable to resist his sexy lips.

"It was unbelievable," I say. We lie together, staring into the mirror blue night until I drift into sleep.


	6. VI

VI

I wake up surrounded in warmth. With Melchior's arms around me, I feel so safe and…loved. No one else makes me feel this way. I want to lie with him forever. His hands gently shake my shoulder while his soothing voice whispers, "Moritz, moritz". I open my eyes slowly. His face is inches from mine—serene and calm, and I smile at the sight. The scene is so beautiful—Melchior's face set against the night sky and the soft waves of the grass. I stroke his face with my palm, and he brings up his hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. It sends shivers through my body.

"We can't stay out all night," he says with a grin. I close my eyes and relax into his embrace.

"I know," I whisper, not wanting this to end. I feel his lips on my forehead planting soft kisses. I squeeze him tighter, trying to prevent the inevitable separation—but what if it wasn't inevitable…

"Melchior," I say looking up at him.

"Yes?" he responds, looking at me with curiosity.

"What if, it was just you and me?" He looks a little perplexed, but chuckles nonetheless.

"I would love that."

"But—seriously, what if we just left and ran off together…this would never have to end." His face warps slightly into confusion.

"Seriously?"

Now I've gone too far. Melchior is genuinely concerned—I don't want to ruin the moment. "No...just kidding—it's a silly idea," I force a laugh. Melchior's face grows calm; my lie seems to be relieving him. I don't want to make him anxious. How stupid of me to suggest it…

"Yeah, it is a little…silly." He leans his head in and kisses me—a sort of comforting kiss to relieve my embarrassment. It works. My mind feels empty when he kisses me, like nothing bad is going to happen, like everything is peaceful and quiet and good.

"I love you Melchi."

"I love you too Mortiz…but we can't stay out all night."

"You're right Melchi." I feel the happiness slowly fade away as we leave the matted grass. He walks with his arm around me, shielding me from the cold, but I feel colder and colder the farther we walk from the field, from the place where I felt love. We reach my house. He kisses me softly on the lips. I watch him as he walks back to his house before I climb in through my window.

Back in my room it feels so empty. Now that I've felt true closeness with someone, the loneliness is unbearable. I need Melchior. A part of me is gone without him. I can't be with him though—not now. What would his Mama say if she caught me in his room with him tonight? But, what can I do?

I'm nothing without him. How did I live all these years without being with him in this way? I can picture him now, smiling sweetly at me in my bed. I lie down in the bed, trying so hard to smell any traces of his scent in the sheets and pillows. There's still a faint smell on them. It's enough for me to pretend that he's really here with me.

It's enough for me to remember the warmth I felt in his arms, the happiness of being with him so intimately. I can almost feel him again, kissing me passionately, holding me tightly in his arms. It's as if I'm still with him if I try hard enough to believe it. He can still be here in my imagination till I see him again. I can see him now with my eyes closed. He's looking at me with warm eyes. He clears away all my worries with his gaze. I feel myself slipping into the fantasy, allowing it to overtake my thoughts.

"Moritz," I imagine him saying. He reaches for my hand. I can't feel it. I shut my eyes tighter, focusing, focusing on him. There, there, I almost feel it. My hand tingles with warmth—its close enough. With that, I fall into a fantasy, a heavenly dream. His hands wander over my arms sending shivers through my body. They rest on the small of my back. I think of his lips kissing me. I taste his mouth again—his hot mouth. The memory of it is so strong. It's like I'm kissing him again. It's like he's really with me.

* * *

I know I've woken up because Melchior is gone. He's with me in my dreams, but not here, not now. My memory of last night's dreams is a fuzzy amalgam of moments with Melchior. Bits of the dream are already fading away, and I can only recall a few vague images, one being his face—a picture that'll never fade from my mind.

"Moritz," Mama says opening my bedroom door. "Oh! You're already awake…that's good, that's…well breakfast will be ready soon…so….." She slips out the door before I can say anything. Mama has always been distant, emotionally at least. Papa says not to "baby me". I "need to be a man". What does that even mean? Why is there the expectation of strong masculinity. According to Papa, a man…well, a man is supposed to support a family, children, a wife…

How is that supposed to happen for me? Me and Melchi—how can we be together here…or anywhere? Boys can't get married. That's just—just unheard of. Children come from a married man and woman, not from a man and a man.

But I love him; I love Melchi. That's more than I can say for Mama and Papa. They don't even look at each other the way Melchi looks at me. They don't even talk to each other unless it's about when dinner will be ready. If anything, Mama looks afraid, afraid to speak even to me, now more than ever. I don't even want to imagine what would happen if she really had seen me and Melchi. What if she told Papa? No, no, I can't think about that. I can't. The smell of bacon wafts into my room—breakfast is ready. I dress quickly and hurry to go eat. The faster I eat, the faster I get to school and see Melchior.

Papa is already eating when I get to the table. He looks at me briefly before returning his attention to the newspaper. Mama looks like a nervous wreck. I feel like she's going to explode any second—fidgeting so much. Papa gives her a look and she settles down—now only her knee shakes slightly under the table as she eats slowly. I try to look at her. She sees me and gives me a strange look. She looks terrified. I can't help thinking she's afraid of me.

I leave as soon as I finish my food. The walk to school seems longer than usual. I hear my heart beat as with every step I take. I can't help thinking that maybe last night didn't happen or that maybe Melchi will regret it. I'm anticipating the worst, but I don't know if I could take it. At this point, I feel myself becoming so dependent on Melchior. My head is filled with thoughts of touching him or him touching me. It's like being close to him has become a sort of life support.

When I arrive at school, I get lost in a swarm of students gathered outside my classroom. Sonnenstich isn't here yet. Suddenly I'm plunging headfirst into reality. Like being soaked in water, I suddenly awake from my obsessive lust over Melchior and remember the exams. Every student around me is talking about them. My nerves go wild in anticipation of the results. Entering the building is a soothing face glancing at the crowd. He approaches, looking for a face. He spots his target and smiles. I smile too. My worries fade away into a warm feeling as I see him approaching me.

"Moritz," he says at last.

"Melchi," I speak resisting the urge to hug and kiss him. "…Sonnenstich isn't here yet," I mumble, holding back the more intimate words which I desperately want to whisper in his ear.

"Okay," he says, still smiling. He holds my eyes in a deep gaze, silently conversing with me. Our eyes say all the words we can't say out loud here at school.

Suddenly the classroom door opens. "What are you all doing out hear," yells Sonnenstich. Everyone ceases conversation. The hall goes quiet. A few moments pass of silence till Georg rushes into the room and everyone else follows.

As soon as we are all seated, Sonnenstich speaks. "I know you are all expecting…_pleasant_ exam results." He smiles a sinister smile and then his face becomes stern. "However, they are not finished yet," he says quickly. A hushed gasp seeps collectively out of our mouths. How could this be? Sonnenstich always give us our marks promptly the day after our exams. His face looks tense…embarrassed almost.

"It seems you all did worse than I could have imagined," he barks instilling silence. "You may pick up your exam results tomorrow. That's all for today. You may leave." Everyone rises quickly and exits the room, but I go a little slower, still confused. Sonnenstich has the oddest look on his face. He looks alarmed or scared maybe. He's noticed my staring though. "Get on your way Herr Stiefel!" he commands. I put my head down and scurry out.

I meet up with Melchior on the way out of school. "Isn't this exciting Moritz?" he asks. "Our parents have no idea that we aren't in school. We can do whatever we want. We have the whole day free, free of Sonnenstich's harassment, of parental control, of authority."

"You're right Melchi! We can—we can do anything! We could—"

"We could go down by the creek and skip rocks and lay with our feet in the water and…" He moves his hand over to my face to caress my cheek. His thumb grazes over my lips sending shivers down my spine as he winks. I smile uncontrollably. This is so perfect. I don't have to worry about the exam results until tomorrow and I have the day to spend with Melchior.

"Come on," he says grabbing my hand.

* * *

**OK. So I know it's been a really long time since I updated this. I'm really sorry to those of you who have been consistently reading this because I know how frustrating it can be to be following a fanfic and not get updates. I've been very busy with school and have just found the time to start working on this again. Also, I have updated the previous chapters. Give them a read if you have time. They are what I hope is an improvement from before. Thank you to anyone who keeps up with this! Your reviews are really, really helpful and encouraging. Let me know what you think :D**


	7. VII

VII

We find a spot under a willow tree near the creek where the cattails peep out of the water, greeting us warmly as if we were unexpected company. Melchior, still holding my hand, pulls me into a deep kiss. It's safe here; no one is watching us but the cattails.

"Moritz, this is wonderful—" he says with excitement. "Let's go for a swim." Immediately he starts to disrobe. I watch in amazement as he quickly removes his clothing and flings it to the ground. Before I know it, he's completely naked, his perfectly human body exposed to me again. He looks up at me and laughs. "Moritz—aren't you going to…"

"Oh…right…" I stammer, catching myself. I kick off my shoes and reach down to pull off my socks before starting on unbuttoning my shirt.

"Wait," he says stepping towards me, "let me do it." I drop my hands and let him take over. He slowly continues where I left off. He leans his head in, and before I can feel his lips on mine, he shifts to the side and kisses my cheek instead. I smile at him, and he grins back. He moves his head down to my chest to plant another kiss. I feel his hands move slowly over my torso as he pulls off my shirt. He then starts on my trousers. I watch him undo the buttons slowly, looking up at me with a lustful grin. He reaches his hands under my pants and squeezes my buttocks gently before pulling them down. Falling to his knees, he lays a few kisses on my belly. I gasp in shock and pleasure. He moans a bit as he slowly pulls down my underpants.

"Wow Moritz," he declares. "You are breathtaking." I feel myself blushing. Melchi is too nice to me. I feel like I don't deserve this—this—kindness. My body is stricken with erotic bliss as I feel kisses trickling down the base of my prick. He stops suddenly leaving me yearning for more. He kisses me quickly on the lips before whispering, "Now, let's swim."

As I dip my toe in the water, I notice that it is much cooler than I'd expected. The sun is still out though and it isn't terribly chilly so I lower the rest of my foot in. There's a loud splash. I look quickly and see that Melchior has disappeared under the surface of the water. That's rather impressive as I am still only in up to my ankles. His head bobs out of the water. Smiling with delight, he pulls back his wet hair and swims over to me.

"Moritz, aren't you coming?" he asks.

"Yes, it's j-just cold is all—" is all I can say before he pulls me down under the water. It's freezing—and—and then it's not. Whether it's my body adjusting to the temperature or Melchior's arms wrapping around my body, it isn't cold anymore. He squeezes me tightly, moving his arms up and down my back and resting his head on my shoulder. I yield to his touch, squeezing back, feeling his soft skin on mine. We stay like this for a few moments listening to the soft current of the creek and feeling the sun shine lovingly on us. After a time he takes my hand and pulls me with him into the gentle current.

* * *

We swim for what feels like hours. My thoughts escape me within the security of Melchior's presence. Not a care, not a worry. Only the sun on his wet back and the soft pull of the water. "It must be noon already, Moritz," he says looking up at the sky and then back at me. He smiles and I smile back. It's all so natural and free. "We better get under some shade before we burn up." We both chuckle as we find our way back to the willow tree. We begin pulling on our discarded clothing over our wet bodies. A light breeze chills my naked back. "You're shivering," Melchior says half-amused, half-concerned. He finishes pulling on his trousers and then retrieves my crumpled shirt. "Here", he says as he helps me into it. His eyes look fixedly as he buttons me up–his body close to mine. He gets to the top and stops, leaving the last one undone. He looks into my eyes, still holding the fabric of my collar.

I notice something strange, unexpected. Melchior's veneer of confidence and assurance has dissolved into what appears to be hesitation, even nervousness. Remarkably, I myself have never felt so certain and sure. I can't believe myself when I put my hands on his and push my head forward towards his. His lips are trembling and wet as I meet them with my own trembling, wet lips. I kiss him softly, with such controlled passion. In this instant, I feel that–I know that I want Melchior to be mine forever. I pull my lips away from his and look at his face. His eyes look toward the ground, his breathing shallow and quick. Still holding both of his hands, I pull him down onto the soft turf and with my free hand instinctually lay his head against my chest. I think back to Melchior's description of "nursing".

I have learned so much, almost everything from Melchior, especially in these past few days. Months ago, Melchior taught me about reproduction. There were many uncomfortable and unpalatable details, but one piece stands out to me now. Michael explained that during pregnancy, the mother ate, drank, and breathed for the child. After he is born, he is able to breathe for himself, but the mother still feeds him. Miraculously, the mother makes food for the child herself and feeds him through her breast. Melchior went on to explain the mechanics of this process, the specifics of which I didn't quite understand. But the image of a mother holding the child and bringing his head to her breast to nourish him stuck with me. I can't help but relate that image to me holding Melchior's head to my chest and comforting him. I feel his shaking damp body become calm and still in my arms. I rest my head on his and pull our bodies down so that we are lying together on the ground.

With my eyes closed I imagine our bodies here under this tree. I imagine the earth kindly absorbing us into herself. Not a burial, no, but more of a revitalization. I try to feel our souls becoming one and exiting our bodies. I can feel it now. I am leaving my body. It will remain in the earth to nourish the willow tree above it. I feel myself merging with Melchior. Our shared soul rises now quite quickly out of the earth and into the air where it expands beyond measure. Together we envelope the tree and the earth, the cattails and the creek, the sun and the sky. I feel divine, as if Melchior and I are God himself, have always been, and always will be.

I hear his muffled voice. "Mortitz?"

My eyes open slowly, waking from a dream. I run my hand through his hair in response, pulling him further into me.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks.

"Of course–you can tell me a-anything," I say.

He rolls his head off my chest and lays it in the crook of my neck. His soft hair feels like fleece on my skin.

"I'm scared."

I remain silent but clasp his hand with my own. Somewhere, not too far off, cuckoos are singing familiar yet discordant harmonies.

"I've never done this before...with anyone. I've read about this and know how it all works...how it all _should_ work." He pauses. "But I've never felt these things until you. And I didn't even realize I was like this I mean...that I was attracted to boys-–well at least one boy." He rolls his head over and kisses my neck softly. I can't see it, but I know that he's giving me that warm affectionate grin at this moment. "Mama and Papa have always been so open minded–encouraging me to read outside of the curriculum, teaching me things I know other children won't learn, speaking up for what is right–."

I remember one time after Papa hit me–I must have done poorly on an exam or accidentally broken a dish–and I went over to Melchior's house. He and I were smoking cigarettes in his room when his mother abruptly came in. She was holding a tray with tea and immediately began to scold us for smoking tobacco, but then she saw looked at me and her anger turned to alarm. I must've looked bruised and bloody. I hadn't cleaned myself up yet. She asked what had happened, but she knew. This wasn't the first time she had seen me after one of Papa's beatings. She cleaned me up while Melchior's Papa went to my house to speak to my Papa. I begged him not to go over, but he said he couldn't let this go on any longer. "Who would beat their own child?" I heard him say to Melchior's Mama before he walked out the door. I spent the night at Melchior's house. When I got home the next day, Papa wouldn't even look at me. I knew he was furious–Papa isn't the kind of man who get's told what to do. But he did lay off me for about a week. I've always been grateful to Melchior's parent's since. They treat me more like a son than my own Mama and Papa.

"–but _this_? I don't know how they'd react. They've never even discussed it with me–I've only read about...about homosexuals...in books. No one discusses it, even mentions it in. It's just tacitly rebuked. You and me–no one could ever know. I mean–if they found out. I've heard about men being mysteriously killed–men with certain proclivities." I have too. Everyone has. Heinrich Stöltz was killed only a year ago. Everyone knew Heinrich was a bit flamboyant. He was 28 and single–a tailor. He hired a young man, a foreigner, to work in his shop. I don't know what went on between them, but someone did or at least suspected. A month later, they were both found dead. Separate ditches. There was no investigation. Papa snickered when he read about it in the paper. It made me sick.

"But I care so much about you Moritz. I never want anything bad to happen to you." I rub his thumb with my own. The deep, intimate feelings I thought I bore alone–Melchior feels them too? The Adonis of my dreams–does he too grapple with these thoughts in the stark night. I shift slightly to the side to look at him. His eyes are a bit moist and pink, but he still flaunts that same affectionate smile.

"You're so beautiful Moritz," he says sweetly.

The leaves overhead cast freckles of sunlight on Melchi's face. I think he is the beautiful one; still his words penetrate me with a warm tingle. I beam graciously.

He leans in and lingers a bit with his lips almost touching mine. I faintly hear him breathing and feel his hot breath on my lips. He kisses me softly and then withdraws his head to stare into my eyes. "I love you Moritz," he says.

"I love you too Melchi," I reply.

I've said it so many times before and thought it even more, but now its meaning has taken on a different, richer color. I feel like I am truly beginning to see inside Melchior for the first time. He slides in close to me, rests his head on my chest, and lays his arm across my body. I pull him closer with one arm, grip his shoulder with my right hand and reach the left over to hold the hand that is resting on my belly. I squeeze him tightly trying to re-enact the fantasy I had imagined. Though we transcend no physical limits, I feel my spirit connecting with his, and it is enough.


End file.
